Friends and Family Discount
by queenofairandsnarkness
Summary: (reposted due to technical difficulties.) Jon is perfectly capable of doing whatever he sets his mind to. Really. Just because his family meddles... a lot, and his friends are very... busy... doesn't mean he isn't the hero of his own story. Really!


**Author's Note: So, apparently the formatting went... wrong somewhere, and I thus reposted this in hopes it would go right this time. Please cross your fingers.**

 **That being said, this story does have a sequel I will... probably post next week, but it is a more obvious Marvel crossover, starring Arya.**

 **one.**

"Hey, Rhae, you fucked up the grocery shopping," Aegon said, peeking into her room. Since Asha wasn't in there, and nothing seemed to be smoldering, he looked relieved.

Then the pillow went flying at his head.

"I've done dad's grocery shopping lists since I was ten," she grumbled, not looking up from her math homework. "If you and Duck want more snacks, put them on the list and I'll budget it. Or," she said, sweetly enough he debated slamming the door and running for Jersey, "you can take over the groceries. I'll keep the bills, the taxes, the mail, cooking..."

"I got stuck with the lawn. And, y'know, the laundry," Aegon said, crossing his arms. " I wash your bras, I shouldn't have to know my sister's cup size." He frowned. Jon did take chores, right? He was fairly sure Jon did the floors and trash. There was a chart somewhere.

"Being fair, Edmure was the one who spilled the beans on that one," Rhaenys pointed out. "Which is why I dumped him, which is why he is failing precalc." She looked up, arching an eyebrow. "And Dad still knows _none_ of this, so no worries. Right?"

"But seriously, we ran out of bread, those soup things dad likes, crackers, milk, and I think we're almost out of Chex," he said.

Rhaenys wrinkled her nose. "I just bought a box three days ago, though. Did you or Jon have a sleepover?"

"Guys don't…" he gave up. "No, King Mopey is giving everyone the silent treatment since Lyanna decided to go with that volunteer group for hurricane relief."

"We knew it was coming," Rhaenys said, closing her book. Which, true. Generally, while Dad and Lyanna were usually weirdly infatuated for two people with... nothing in common, but once the throwing things stage of their relationship started… Lyanna found an excuse to bolt for a few weeks, clear her head, and restart the cycle. It was enough to make Aegon wish Mom had full custody. But then Jon would be on his own. And probably starve. "I'll talk to him."

Aegon followed her as they went down to Jon's room.

 _Do we knock?_ he asked. She shook her head and flung the door open.

Aegon blinked. There was Sam Tarly, one of Jon's friends who Aegon vaguely knew from sharing an AP class. The kid was a bit of a genius- not Sarella-smart, but smart. He was talking to a pretty pale girl with wavy brown hair and a very obvious pregnant belly.

Jon was looking at Rhaenys and Aegon in horror, then glared at Sam. "I told you we'd get caught."

"What happened?" Rhaenys asked, striding in as if her pajama bottoms didn't have snakes wearing sunglasses on them. "Don't lie, it'll make my cover story suck."

The three looked at each other. Aegon, happy that he wasn't the one in trouble for doing something stupid this time, grabbed the goldfish crackers and offered them to the girl.

"I…" Jon opened and closed his mouth a few times, and Aegon tried to land a goldfish in his mouth.

The girl tried to hide a laugh as Jon glared at him. Which was good, because he was pretty sure that she wasn't supposed to be that pale and underfed-looking, and was that a bruise on her wrist? A big one, like someone grabbed her.

Eventually the tale came out, about Craster and his farm out in the boonies, how Jon and his buddies had gone out there to drive ATVs, and dragged Sam along. How Sam had met Gilly, who was the girl. And the creepy, creepy, even for Targaryens level of shit going on in the farm. Very Deliverance, he could practically hear the dueling banjos and Uncle Oberyn discussing criminal charges. And that Sam was afraid to shelter Gilly at his house, so Jon wanted to get his Uncle Ned's help. But Uncle Ned was on his anniversary trip with Aunt Cat.

Aegon wanted to ask about Sam's dad, who was some bigwig with the state cops, but he could hear the panic in Sam's brain whenever his dad was mentioned. And asking their Dad was out of the question- Lyanna would have helped. She would have been a blunt instrument and with about as much delicacy as Jon showed, but she would have helped.

Dad… might have given Gilly a guest bedroom, and refused to make any sort of fuss until she left without a ripple. Some of it, Mom said, was growing up with Granddad Barbecue. It left scars and fears Dad didn't like to admit existed.

Still, dick moves were made. Usually by Dad.

"Night classes tonight, so I'll make dinner," Rhaenys said, after a moment. "For all of us- Sam, can you stay for a night or two?"

"I-I-I, um, yes?" Sam blinked, and really, Tarly wasn't doing too badly when confronted by Rhaenys in all her plotting glory. (Or, as far as Aegon could tell, being a teenage boy and in the same room as Rhae. Duck had joked about geeky succubi, though that _might_ have been the dice she'd lent him. Aegon chose to believe that.) "I think he'll let me stay."

"Does anyone have any allergies or anything?" she asked. They shook their heads. "Good, good, give me an hour. Gilly, we can talk about what you want to do, and making sure you have stuff." She went out, ignoring the baffled silence.

She popped her head back in a moment later. "Next time, Jon, use your words."

 **two.**

"Jon," his sister said, tilting her head slowly. "Do you have a crush on Satin?"

"I don't!" he said, and it was a bit embarrassing how his voice squeaked. He thought he'd grown out of that.

She shook her head. "Sweetie, it's okay. I am speaking from experience, here, your mother doesn't care, and Dad wouldn't notice if you were getting him off on the dinner table." She paused. "Er, Aegon, would, though, so don't… don't do that. Not that Aegon would be an asshole, but…"

"It would be rude?" he managed. Rhaenys was almost as bad as Grams or Sansa about being rude. He suspected it had to do with being oldest. Or maybe trying to make up for the family crazy.

"Exactly," she said, finally. "If it would be rude at my mother's table, don't do it. And you totally do- you kept talking about his hair, and his hands, and how he arranged his homework, and got more gushy then Dany did about that rock star she went to go see in concert last year."

"I didn't," he said, but maybe… okay, a little. But it was true! And people were actually rude to Satin about it, and his name, and Jon had maybe gotten into one or two fights about it.

But he'd done the same for Sam, and even Gilly.

(And Sansa, last year, but Rhaenys had heard about that incident, went dead grey, and called her uncles. He wasn't quite sure what had happened with the Lannisters, but Sansa was friends with Elia Sand now, and Joffrey didn't go to school in town any more. Or live in town. Also, Tyrion Lannister had gotten her very expensive whiskey, which she'd shrugged and given to Garin Greenblood for his birthday.)

"It's okay," she said again. "I'm not going to tease you. Been there, remember? Me and Asha? Boys, girls, people who don't care to label?" She frowned, sitting on the bed next to him. "Your mom should be home tomorrow, right?"

"That's why your heading back to your mom," Jon pointed out. Rhaenys had come back from college for a bit before heading to summer classes so she could finish a semester early for some internship.

"We don't like each other, it isn't your fault," Rhaenys said, absently. "But still, talk to her. She'll…" She paused. "I'm _trying_ not to insult anyone…"

"Mom will go over the top trying to support me?" Jon said, grinning.

"Little bit," Rhaenys said. "She got me cake. For the family. The whole Targaryen family. Remember that?"

Jon snorted. Grams had tried to be nice- or forcibly oblivious. Dany had been thoughtful in a way that didn't bode well for Gram's white hairs. Vis had been a nightmare, but he and Rhae hated each other.

Dad had actually yelled at Vis, and Rhae looked like someone told her Santa did exist.

Though, really…

Maybe Rhae should give this talk to Sansa. In a year or two. Sansa really wasn't that subtle.

 **three.**

"Seriously, I don't think…" Sansa bit her lip, and looked from Robb to Jon. "Do you really think Uncle Ben is missing?"

"Has anyone heard from him in the past…" Robb frowned.

"Not since Christmas," Jon admitted. "He visited Mom and me before taking us to Winterfell."

Sansa looked at the remnants of Robb's graduation party.

Uncle Ned had been worried by Uncle Ben not showing up- Mom too, when she blew into town yesterday and realized that no one had heard from him.

It wasn't like Uncle Ben- he went out of town, or on Search and Rescue missions, or whatever, but he always had a rough estimate of when he was coming back, and he never failed to check in.

"What can we do?" Robb asked.

"I can have Sam…" Jon made a typing gesture. "Maybe see if we can find out where Uncle Ben was heading last?"

"And I could find out from Mom what they think is going on," Sansa said, nodding.

"And I'll…" Robb frowned. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Keep Rickon and Arya from doing anything too stupid," Sansa said, nodding to herself.

Which worked, a bit- Sam found out that Uncle Benjen was near the Thousand Islands, and that no one had heard from him, no credit card activity had been made, and that Uncle Ned had filed a missing persons report.

Bran, of all people, found him, after he went missing two Halloweens after and Rhaenys' new friend Stephen the "actual sorcerer, yes, no jokes Aegon", brought his cousin home.

 **four.**

"I don't understand what I'm doing here," Jon said, frowning at his drink. Not that he was drinking it, despite Tyrion downing three of them already.

Tyrion also had a much better head for booze. Possibly because he viewed it as a food group.

"Well, I needed someone pretty and sure to piss off my father and sister," Tyrion said. "Also, not boring, but so far you aren't exactly hitting that mark."

"Why didn't you invite my sister? Aren't you friends?" Jon frowned, a horrible suspicion dawning. "Tyrion, did you get drunk and insult Rhae again?"

"I didn't insult her! Merely… complemented her," Tyrion said, into his drink. "Not many people have tits you want to burrow into like that. Or the hair. Very pull-worthy, especially since the length means I can reach it so easily. Or the lips. There are very naughty things a man could imagine…"

"Please stop, Rhaenys will murder you," Jon said. "Or I'll be sick. Or dig up a lecture. I've heard Mom give enough."

"Smothering will be good," Tyrion grinned. "Please."

"Autopsy while you are still breathing is more likely," Jon pointed out. "I'm still not sure if she was joking when she said they used garden shears to cut the ribs. But you could have invited Dany. She would have insulted everyone for you."

"Your aunt terrifies me. And I am perfectly capable of doing my own insults, thank you," Tyrion said. "For instance, my sister, despite her professed hatred of hypocrisy, seems determined to match both myself and her esteemed husband for drinks."

Jon looked at Cersei, who did look more than a bit drunk, then frowned. "Is she covering up a black eye?"

Tyrion frowned, eyebrows furrowing. "Robert wouldn't dare."

Jon gave him a look. The look said that Robert Baratheon had come to Lyanna Stark to throw stones at her window and beg her to leave Rhaegar. The night before Robert went and married Cersei in some big society wedding. He was totally that stupid and cruel.

"Jaime will kill him," Tyrion groaned. "Lovely, now I have to go save my family, for the reward of insults and… more insults. Care to swap?"

"I prefer my family's crazy," Jon said, grinning.

 **five.**

"I feel like we should be having some fun with this," Jon said, watching as his sister perched against the desk and spoke with the clearly exhausted man.

"When is the last time you slept- relative time for you, not calendar time for me, Stephen," Rhaenys said, with the sword-grin she got from Elia. "I have heard your little lecture on the relative time between dimensions and all that.

"…Ah, that would be a bit complicated," Strange admitted with a twitchy smile. "Can I just say Tuesday?"

"Get some rest, then. Perhaps eat a banana, I just picked some up," she said. "I could travel to visit Auntie Mel with the bags under your eyes right now."

She ruffled his hair, and Arya, Sansa, and Aegon watched as Rhaenys completely forgot the meaning of the term personal space. Which, as Sansa had pointed out before, he did too. It was a bit annoying, finding them talking _into_ each other like that.

"Betting pool?" Aegon offered. "Starting with Dad's reaction?"

Sansa gave him a withering look. "Have they even realized it, yet?"

Jon's answering smile had last been seen when he'd pranked Viserys over the Great Naming Incident two years ago, when Viserys resembled a bald, mulberry colored Smurf. "No."

"I feel this is a girl thing, to be left to girls, people with girl hair, and scary knife people," Aegon said. "Also people not afraid of getting turned into newts."

"I don't think he can turn people into newts," Sansa said, biting her lip.

"How much do you think we can trick Robb and Theon into betting?" Arya asked, slowly. "Or Lannister?"

They all looked at her.

Aegon grinned evilly.

Somehow, Arya won the betting pool, taking home four hundred dollars, a Modcloth gift card, a bottle of glittery wine, and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

Jon would have pouted, but he really wasn't sure where the handcuffs came from.


End file.
